Page 18 of The Texan's Baby Proposal

A week later, on Saturday morning, Lara had butterflies in her stomach. This was her wedding day. A marriage of convenience wedding day. A temporary marriage that was a business deal, actually.

Whatever she called it, this morning she was marrying Marc Medina. She still hadn’t met his grandfather because he hadn’t been well enough to have company, but she had met Marc’s sweet mother, who looked amazingly young. She’d learned Marc had been born when his mother was sixteen.

Wedding traditions had gone out the window and Marc was picking her up. They were going to marry in his grandfather’s hospital room—a very unromantic place and definitely not a beautiful one, but hopefully, it would please his grandfather and Marc was doing what he could for the man.

When the doorbell rang, her racing pulse jumped again. Her groom waited at the door. She still couldn’t believe this was happening. Not in her wildest dreams a year ago would she have been able to guess what she’d be doing on this date. She glanced down at her tailored pale-pink silk dress. It was conservative, with long sleeves and a skirt that fell to midcalf. She wore matching high-heeled pumps.

She opened the door and her breath caught as she smiled at Marc. In a charcoal suit, white shirt and red tie, he looked handsome, successful and self-assured. And so appealing. She tried to ignore that last thought.

He smiled, stepping into her house and closing the door behind him. “You look beautiful,” he said, his gaze sweeping over her again.

“Thank you.”

“I’m ready to go.”

The sun was bright on the cool, brisk September morning. He took her arm and they left to get into his black sports car. She was aware of Marc’s every touch, of a constant buzzing excitement when she was with him, a continual warning to keep that reserve between them she’d always had at the office. He was more relaxed with her now and she was going to have to keep up her guard. There was no love in this marriage and she needed to always remember that.

“I’m a little nervous about meeting your grandparents,” she told him when they parked at the hospital.

“So far this has been a good day for my grandfather, and up until five minutes ago, it was clear to go see him. Hopefully it will still be that way when we get upstairs. I’m sorry you couldn’t meet them before today.”

“Me, too.” She put a trembling hand to her belly. “I have butterflies in my stomach.”

“You shouldn’t,” he said quietly. “My grandfather will be happy today. Mom will be Mom, looking at you to see if you’re suitable to marry her son.”

Lara smiled and he took her arm as they walked down the hospital corridor.

Marc had had a dinner party the night before for the small group of relatives and friends who could attend. Most of them were at the hospital now, gathered in the waiting room on his grandfather’s floor.

When they reached the lounge, Lara moved around the room with Marc, greeting Gabe Callahan, who would be best man, and Gabe’s new wife, Meg. Lara’s single attendant was her friend Patsy Wilson, who’d be stepping into Lara’s vacated job.

Lara smiled politely as she greeted Marc’s mother, who hugged her lightly.

“You look beautiful.” She took Lara’s hand. “I pray you and Marc find happiness.”

“Thank you. My life will be easier because of your son.”

“Family, the heart—these are what’s important in life. Keep each other happy when you’re together. That’s what I tell Marc.”

“Thank you,” Lara said, smiling at his mother. “He has such a nice family.”

“Lara, I’m sorry your mother isn’t here to see you today,” Pilar said.

“Thank you. I wish she was here,” Lara said, thinking it was nice of Marc’s mother to make such a comment.

Minutes later, when the minister arrived, Marc quietly got the group into their places in his grandfather’s room. He took Lara to his grandfather’s bedside. “Grandpa, this is my bride, Lara Seymour. I’ve told you about her.”

“I’m happy to meet you,” she said, as she looked at the small, frail, white-haired man whose bony hands lay on his chest. When he gazed at her, she felt as if he was alert and very aware of what was happening.

“Grandpa,” Marc said, leaning down. “Do you want us to get married here in your room or would you rather sleep and have us go to the visitor’s lounge?”

“You marry here where I can see you,” he whispered hoarsely.

With Marc directing, everyone lined up and someone started music playing softly on a phone. The wedding was as surreal to her as everything else about Marc’s proposal had been.

Lara glanced up at Marc and saw a muscle flex in his jaw. He seemed highly fond of his grandfather, so this might be a tough event, because it made it painfully obvious how frail the old man was.

Everything was in hushed tones, yet she was aware of Marc’s grandmother holding her husband’s hand and his eyes focused on Marc as Marc repeated his vows. Marc slipped a gorgeous diamond band on Lara’s finger and then, finally, she heard the minister say, “You may kiss the bride.”

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